Prince Anselmo
by WizardsGirl
Summary: Ofelia wasn't the only reincarnated Royal. Harry is about to find out about his own history. ONESHOT WARNINGS: Spoilers, Creepiness, Child Abuse, Character Death, and that Creepy as all HELL Faun.


_**Prince Anselmo**_

**A/N:** So, I just watched Pan's Labyrinth for the first time, after wanting to watch it for _**five years**_ and this One-shot was born from it.

Warnings for: Spoilers, Creepiness, Child Abuse, and that creepy as all HELL Faun.

Enjoy and...

**R&R!**

"_Once upon a time..."_

Ten-year-old Harry Potter sighed as he was locked out of the house, yet again. The almost-full moon glowed out from behind the clouds, making his breath show in a white mist as he wrapped his arms around himself, and pushed his way through the newly-fallen snow.

"_Many, many years ago..."_

More snow fell, dusting his pitch-black hair with large flakes of white. Harry grimaced, gritting his teeth to keep them from chattering, and made his way into the empty park, the chained gate left open, frozen to the ground. He carefully moved through the damaged, old playground, and blinked, squinting his eyes through his slightly-fogged glasses, barely making out the thick circle of trees. They were large and glimmered strangely in the moonlight, and Harry was curious, as was his nature.

After all, those trees had never been there _before_...

"_There was a kingdom..." _

Harry carefully made his way over, and hesitated before one massive trunk. The trees were so close together, that not even a mouse could fit between them. But this didn't deter him, just as his cousin Dudley's cruel words and painful fists never detered him from doing his chores, or trying to make friends.

Carefully, Harry lifted one of his small, bony hands, and started to put it against the tree, freezing when it shimmered gold, briefly, before going back to normal. Swallowing thickly, he pulled his hand back and looked around. There was no one in sight, and the snow was falling, heavier than ever. Re-focusing his jewel-bright green eyes on the tree, Harry took a steadying breath, before reaching forward and putting his hand against the bark.

He never expected it to _move_.

"_Where there was no lies or pain..."_

Harry's breath hitched, as the bark beneath his hand shuddered and groaned, and then parted, the tree itself splitting into two upwards, stopping just a foot above his head, and widening until he could spread his arms out and press his palms against the walls. It formed a tunnel, and, peering warily through it, he could see a garden, encircling a a strange, stone statue. Harry cautiously slipped through the new tunnel, and stepped into the pleasantly warm garden.

He whirled around when, with another groan, the tree closed shut behind him.

"_It was a kingdom of the Underworld..."_

Breath hitching, Harry looked around, nervous but excited as well. He was on an adventure! Eyes wide with anxious enthrallment, the small boy crept closer to the stone statue, staring in fascination at the strange depictions on it. Facing him was a picture of a goat-like man, arm reaching around a small girl, towards the baby in her arms. And, arms wrapped around her legs, was the image of a little boy.

Harry reverently touched the statue...

Again, he never expected it to move.

"_And it held within it many wonderful, magical creatures..."_

The statue shifted backwards, sliding through the grass and dirt, and the ground in front of it rumbled, making Harry stumble back. Soon, the grass and dirt was sliding away, somehow not damaging the beautiful garden. It left behind a set of spiraling, stone steps, caked with dirt and grime. Harry stared down into the depths, and swallowed again. He glanced up at the sky, and could now see more of the moon, through the thick cloud-cover, and saw that it was still snowing, but none touched this place. There was plenty of light though, and, steadying himself with another fortifying breath, Harry began to carefully climb down the steps, glancing nervously upward as he went down deeper and deeper.

He was very glad that, unlike the tree, the "door" didn't close behind him.

"_And, in this kingdom, there was a king..."_

Harry found himself at the bottom, staring at a statue identical to the one above him, in the middle of a strange, rippling circle design, one that spiraled towards the statue. The dips in the spiral were all filled with water, which dripped steadily off of a few thick roots that stuck out of the dirt walls. Harry spun in a slow circle, breathing in the scent of raw, wet earth.

"_...a queen..."_

There was a crackling sound, like tree branches in the wind, like autumn leaves getting stepped on. Harry turned toward the sound, and watched, wide-eyed, as _something_ stepped out of the shadows, moving jerkily, and every movement made that crackling sound.

"_...a princess..."_

It was very, _very_ tall, and broad, but not like his Uncle Vernon, who was just very fat. No, this... _Creature_, was quite thin, but muscled lithely. It's legs were bent backwards at the knee's, like a dog or a horse or some other animal Harry had never seen in real life. It's arms were held close to its chest, and its hands had abnormally long, thin fingers, tipped in pearl-colored claws that were grimy with filth. It's skin looked like it was covered in tree bark, dying vines, and dirt.

"_...and a prince."_

It's head was strange. It's eyes were the color of ashes, with no whites, and with a small white pupil in the middle. They bulged slightly out of a face that held a small, cleft chin, high cheekbones, and a strange, almost cat-like nose (this he knew, thanks to Mrs. Figg's many, many cats). Ragged, scraggly hair grew down its neck, and a small patch grew in the cleft of its chin. It's forehead jutted slightly, over those strange, bulging, gray eyes. Two spirals formed out of the skin there, each curling in the opposite direction of the other.

But, what caught Harry's attention the most, were the large horns that curled off to either side of its head, looking like twisted, gnarly tree branches, and were as thick as his arm at their thinnest.

"_But not all was well in the Underworld's kingdom."_

"You have returned!" The creature whispered in a hoarse, gleeful voice, the sound like boulders rubbing together, or the roar of thunder, or the rush of water over the grass. "Finally you have returned!" It shuffled towards him, and Harry took a step back, eyes huge. "No, please, do not be afraid, I beg you," the creature whispered, stopping and bowing slightly, smiling a strange sort of _knowing_ smile, gesturing oddly with its long-fingered hands. "Look!" the creature gasped, and, turning, it pulled out a strange bag, that was cylindrical and hard, like an instrument case, with a tiny latch on the front. Its long fingers flicked that latch up, and opened the case.

Immediately, out flew three strange, small creatures that flew. The made high-pitched squeaking and clicking sounds, and one flew right towards Harry, stopping and hovering right in front of his wide, wonder-filled eyes. It looked like a little naked man, only without anything.. _down there_, and it's face was.. _wrong_. It had tiny, pointed ears, and no hair at all. This one had a blue tinge, while another, flying over to hover as well, was reddish. The third was perched on the Creature's hand, chirruping at it, and was a pale yellow.

"Yes, you did tell me he would come soon," the Creature whispered to the little... Fairy, Harry was hesitant to call it... And then the Creature gave a surprisingly high-pitched chuckle, like the sound of the wind through the cracks around Harry's cupboard bedroom back at his Aunt Petunia's house.

"What's your name?" the ten-year-old asked curiously; the Creature gave another one of those chuckles, and the yellow fairy flew off of its hand.

"_The princess longed to visit the Mortal Realms..."_

"I have had many, many names," the Creature rasped, turning slightly and walking awkwardly sideways, ducking and turning its head, as if looking around, even though those ash-gray eyes never left Harry, who turned slightly, green eyes following its every move. "I am the sky and the earth and the oceans. I am the trees and rivers. I am the mountains and the forest." It paused and straightened, putting one of those strange hands against its spiral-bark-covered chest. "I am... a Faun" It whispered; Harry tilted his head, morbidly fascinated by this creature, this Faun.

"Oh," was all he could think to say, and got himself another one of those high-chuckles.

"It is a pleasure to meet you again, Your Highness," Faun told him; Harry wrinkled his brows.

"Your what?" Was all he could say to that.

"_She dreamed of blue skies..."_

"You are the Prince Anselmo," Faun rasped. "Only son of the King of the Underworld." Harry stared at the obviously insane creature, and couldn't help but feel a little disappointed. He knew that something bad would happen.

"I'm sorry, but you've got the wrong boy," Harry attempted, voice gentle. "My name is Harry." Faun snorted, an animal sound, and shook his large head, making a strange rattling sound.

"You are the Prince Anselmo," Faun repeated firmly. "You were born in another world, not this one, filled with the disgusting humans, but one of magic and power. You were immortal, never changing, never aging, and very, very powerful." Harry stared it him, brows furrowed and eyes narrowed.

"Then what happened?" He asked doubtfully. "How come I'm here?" Faun tilted his head, eyes becoming shadowed by the ridges of his forehead.

"You died," he rasped solemnly; Harry felt himself stop breathing.

"_...a soft breeze..."_

"Your soul, you essence, lived on, however," Faun continued, and Harry unconsciously moved closer to him, heartbeat loud in his own ears, eyes huge. "And you were reborn in the body you're in now." Faun leaned down and stared into his eyes intensely. "But now I have found you, Your Highness, and I shall help you return to your full, immortal glory." Harry couldn't believe it, couldn't understand. Magic wasn't real! Uncle Vernon would throw him into the cupboard for a _month_ if he fell for this!

And yet...

And yet, here was this creature, so far from human, who had already shown him more magic in the last _five minutes_ than anything Uncle Vernon had tried to show him to proof its non-existence.

"How?" Harry asked softly, deciding that, if this _was _a trick, he could at least _try_.

Faun gave him a smile that would have been disheartening, if not for the fact that Harry was rarely smiled at. All he could do was smile back, and hope that this wasn't going to hurt him in the end.

"_...and sunshine."_

"This place, it is one of the last Portals," Faun announced, leaning up with a low _creak_. He pointed to the statue. "Three tasks you must do, before the full moon arises, to prove that you have not become fully mortal. To prove that your essence goes on untainted." Faun turned and reached behind him; there was a strange sound, like a mix between a snake's hiss and a sigh. Faun turned around, and in his hands was a strange, leather-bound book, large and wide, but not very thick.

"Open this when you are alone," Faun whispered, handing it to Harry, who stroked its cover reverently. It was the first thing anyone had ever given him that wasn't out of spite or anger or pity. He clutched it close to his chest, eyes huge and teary as he stared at the Faun. "It shall tell you what you need to do. Remember, three tasks, before the full moon." With that the creature backed into the shadows, and faded from view, the fairies flying after him and going silent after they, too, faded. Harry looked down at the book, and carefully opened it to the first page...

"_One day, eluding her keepers, the Princes escaped."_

"It's empty," Harry said, frowning, after having gone through the entire book. He pursed his lips, and then decided that Faun and the fairies must still be able to see him, and therefore he wasn't totally alone. Nodding, Harry looked around one last time, before trotting up the stairs and back into the garden. He moved towards the same tree he'd touched before and, before he could even get that close, it opened the tunnel. When he exited, he patted its swiftly closed trunk, and squinted his eyes through the snow, shuddering as the cold once more seeped through his thin, baggy clothes. Clutching his book close, Harry ducked his head against the biting wind, and grimly made his way towards the old red tunnel, knowing it would, at least, provide him with a small bit of shelter.

"_Once outside, the sunlight blinded her, and erased all of her memories."_

"Stupid boy!" Petunia Dursley, his Aunt, hissed at him when she let him in that morning. Harry kept his head bowed, freverently praying she wouldn't see the book he had under his baggy shirt. "Go change in your cupboard, and then get breakfast started," she snapped at him.

"Yes, Aunt Petunia," he muttered, moving swiftly towards the solitude of his cupboard.

"And no sneaking any food, you little brat!" His aunt screeched after him, but Harry was used to it.

"Yes, Aunt Petunia," he replied, and closed the cupboard door firmly. Quickly, he took the book, which had somehow remained dry the whole night, out of his shirt. He shoved it under his bare mattress and then swiftly changed out of his soaked, frosty clothes, shuddering with the cold, the stiff, frozen spikes of his messy hair beginning to get wet as the ice melted. He changed into some dry clothes, and quickly exited the cupboard, moving to the kitchen to cook breakfast.

"_She forgot who she was and where she came from."_

"Here," Petunia said gruffly, and shoved a burnt piece of toast and a glass half-full of warm water at him. Harry took it, and scrambled into his cupboard before she could yell at him. She sniffed and locked him in, and Harry sat in the dim light of the half-dead bulb above his head, scarfing his food and swallowing his warm water without complaint. Once it was done, he greedily pulled out the book, and sat it on his lap. Taking a deep breath, he slowly opened it, and watched as words and picture began to leach onto the page...

"_Her body suffered..."_

Harry hid the book under his bed again, just as his Aunt unlocked his door and snapped at him to go outside and not bother anyone for a few hours, as they were going into town for a shopping trip while Dudley was over at his friend Pier's. Harry scrambled to obey, relieved that he'd gotten to read the book as he darted outside, blinking blindly for a second, stunned by the brilliance of the sunlight against the snow. Shaking his head, he moved towards the park again, the words of the book coming to mind.

_'There is a tunnel that leads to an underground cavern,' _it had said. _'Inside, there is a golden key that is said to unlock the door that protects the sacred dagger. It was stolen by a greedy creature, though, and is even now held within the creatures possession._' Harry climbed over a hill at the park, way off to the side and in an opposite direction of the grove he'd been in the night before. He could just barely make out a shadowed, ominous hole about twenty meters away, and made his way towards it. _'The only way to defeat the creature and rescue the key, is to answer three of its riddles correctly. If you falter, even once, then your death is sure.'_ Harry gulped, before taking a deep breath and determinedly getting to his knees, and starting to crawl in.

"_...coldness..."_

Frigid slush, a mixture of mud and half-melted snow, seeped through his baggy jeans and coated his hands up to his elbows, making him shudder at the biting cold as he carefully shuffled through the narrow tunnel, breath catching every once in a while when it got too narrow and he was forced to wiggle through on his stomach through the icy muck.

He hoped he reached the end soon...

"_...sickness..."_

Harry let out a startled gasp as he fell, tumbling down out of the tumble, only to land on slush-covered ground three feet down. He groaned and carefully sat up, looking around himself at the massive cavern. He gulped when he saw skulls and bones scattered around, most of them crushed or damaged in some way. He slowly dragged his eyes to the other side of the cave, and stared at the large, fur-filled nest, surrounded by _books_ of all things. Inside the nest, though, was a massive lion, only it had a _woman's face_, a face that was watching him with amused green cat-eyes, large tail flicking idly. Harry slowly got to his feet and stumbled towards her, forced to step over skulls and bones and the occasional beyond-saving book.

"I am Prince Anselmo," He told the cat-creature with confidence he wasn't sure he should be having. "I am here to get the gold key, and answer your riddles." The woman smiled with a mouth full of fangs and stood, stepped out of the nest with paws that were as big as Harry's whole _body_.

"Very well," she purred. "Should you lose, however, then you're screams will echo throughout my den." She grinned again, and Harry swallowed thickly.

There was no going back now.

"_...and pain."_

"Here is your first riddle," the Creature said, and took a deep breath.

"_What word can be written forward, backward, and upside down, yet can still be read from left to right?"_ Harry stared at her, brow wrinkled, mouthing the words. His eyes narrowed, his lips pursed, and he raked his brain over every word he knew. Suddenly, it hit him, and he smiled.

"NOON," he told her. "All capital letters." The creature smiled at him.

"Correct," she told him; he smiled. This wasn't so bad...

"_Eventually, the Princess died."_

"Second riddle," the creature announced; Harry nodded determinedly.

"_I come in darkness, but fill the mind with light. I bring enlightenment to some, while gripping others in the hand of fear. With me it can be a journey of inexplicable joy and sorrow. What I will show you will often be unreachable. Journey with me and what you see may haunt you. Journey with me and you may never want to return home. Journey with me and you will never know when it will end. What am I?"_ Harry blinked.

"Er, can you repeat that, only more slowly?" He asked a little meekly; she smiled at him, and did so, slowly saying the riddle, pausing at every period. Harry's head was starting to ache as he furiously thought.

"'Come in darkness, but fill the mind with light'," he repeated to himself, eyes narrowing. "Hmm... That's the line that points to the answer, because it makes the other lines make sense... What happens at night that makes your brain light up?" He frowned, a wrinkle appearing on his forehead, before it smoothed out as his eyes lit up. "Your dreams!" He cried happily; the creature smiled again.

"Well done," she told him; all Harry could do was beam.

"_The King always knew, though, that her soul would one day return..."_

"This is the final riddle," the creature told him in her deep, throaty voice; Harry nodded. "It is the most difficult, so be forewarned. Should you get it wrong, you will be my next meal." She bared her fangs in a smile; Harry could only swallow and nod at her. The creature took a breath.

"_What can run but never walks, has a mouth but never talks, has a head but never weeps, has a bed but never sleeps?"_ Harry stared at her.

"A river," he said, not even having to think about it. "Er, sorry," he said, wincing at her disgruntled scowl. "We learned that on in school." She growled, but lifted a giant paw and puling something out of her fur-filled nest with the claws. It was the gold keep, a large thing that made a low thrumming sound, hanging from a chain. Harry took it, thanked her, and ran back to the tunnel, putting the chain around his neck and tucking the key under his shirt, before scrambling into the tunnel and making the long crawl/shuffle towards the entry, relieved to be away from that fanged-grin and those deadly claws.

"_...perhaps in another body or place, or another time..."_

"Well done, Your Highness!" Faun rasped when Harry appeared once more in the underground room, holding out the gold key proudly. "Keep it, keep it," the creature told him, waving its strange hands and smiling that disheartening smile. "You shall need it for the second task," he whispered; Harry nodded, and tucked it away again. "You shall also need these," Faun croaked, holding out a piece of white chalk and a large hourglass. Harry took them carefully, peering at them. "When you are in your room, draw a door with the chalk. When it opens, turn the hourglass over. You _must_ return before the last grain of sand falls, Your Highness," he said, ash-colored eyes gleaming intensely; Harry nodded, wide eyed, clutching the two objects to his chest.

"I will," he promised; Faun nodded, that rattling sound echoing hollowly around them.

"Here," he whispered, and handed Harry his fairy-holding bag. "Take them with you. They shall guide you." He paused, and eyed Harry with a small, concerned frown. "Your Highness, the place you will be going is very dangerous. You will find a grand feast awaiting, but you _must not eat_. There will be delicious looking drinks, but you _must not drink_. The guardian there is... Dangerous. He is not human," Faun shook his head, frowning harder. "Not human at all." Harry watched the creature with large eyes.

"I promise, Faun," he told the creature, whose frown turned into a self-depreciating smirk.

"Pan," he rasped; Harry blinked at him, confused. "You may call me Pan, Your Highness. It is one of my older, but more favorable, names." Harry smiled, feeling shy.

"Pan," he said quietly, and looked up into the creature's ash-colored eyes. "I promise, Pan, that I won't eat or drink anything, and that I'll follow the fairies." Pan nodded, before stepping back with that crackling sound, and disappeared into the shadows. Harry took a slow, deep breath, and left, heading for the Dursley's house even though he knew they wouldn't be there. He'd just use the shed, as it was usually his room when he was locked outside. It had been frozen shut last night, but he knew his aunt had poured hot water on it to melt the ice in order to get something that morning.

It would have to work.

"_The prince, however, did not know this."_

And work it did. Harry watched in awe as the large rectangle he'd drawn on the wall of the shed in the chalk, slowly made seams along that chalk line. When it was finished, he carefully pushed the door open, and found himself peering into the large hallway beyond. The door was about three feet off the ground, and Harry frowned, looking around until he found the old stepping stool. Grabbing it, he carefully lowered it, the top step about a foot away from the bottom of his self-made door. Nodding, Harry turned and backed carefully down those steps, until only the top of his torso was at the door. That done, he reached forward and turned the hourglass over, before quickly turning and beginning to hurry down the hallway, not wanting to waste any time.

He didn't know exactly how much time he had, after all, and decided the faster he worked, the less likely it was that he ran out of time.

"_The prince followed his sister out into the human world, knowing what would happen to him."_

There was, indeed, a massive, delicious-smelling feast waiting at the end of the hallway. And, sitting at the head of the table, was a strange, disturbing pale creature. It looked vaguely human, mostly in body shape. It had two holes _much_ too close together, just above a mouth that resembled a fishes, almost. It's upper lip (not really a lip, but the skin where the lip should be), dipped down over the slightly open mouth, making the lower jaw look so much shorter. It's pale pinkish skin hung in rolls and flaps, as if it had once been fat and had been denied food. Harry shuddered and looked away, trying to ignore the fact that there were _eyeballs_ on the plate in front of it, which was what was missing on its _face_.

There was a disturbingly _large_ pile of children's shoes at the base of a nearby pillar, some of them looking like something Dudley would wear, while the rest were tattered and ruined by age. He turned his eyes away, and they were drawn to the depictions on the walls... The pictures were filled with images of the Pale Man behind him, attacking, ripping apart, and _eating_ small children. Harry swallowed, and shakily opened the fairy-holder, letting the three creatures out. They squeaked and chittered at him like crickets, and flew around, until they reached three small doors. Harry padded over, keeping and eye on the Pale Man, before focusing on the doors. The fairies were crawling and tapping on the one in the middle, specifically the keyhole, and Harry pulled the key and its chain off of his neck, putting it to the keyhole once the fairies had left it. He started to push it in but paused, frowning.

"That's not right," he muttered, and slowly moved the key over to the far right door. It slid in and, with a turn, clicked. Harry carefully opened the door.

"_The sun blinded him, just as his sister, and, the prince soon fell to the same human afflictions."_

Cautiously, Harry pulled out the beautiful dagger, it's handle gold like the key, and its blade a gleaming, bright silver. He quickly wrapped it and tucked it away in his pants pocket, before closing the door.

"Let's get out of here," he muttered to the fairies and, glancing on more time at the Pale Man to make sure he hadn't moved (he hadn't), Harry began to leave the room. He hesitated when passing a particularly delicious smelling cake, but shook his head and forged on at the fairies urgings, remembering Pan's warning about the dangerous guardian. He made it back to the door with a quarter of sand left, and scrambled out, pulling the step-stool out as well, just in time for the sand to run out. The door slammed shut and sealed, until all that was left was the chalk outline, which Harry used his filthy shirt to scrub away. Tucking everything away and letting the fairies back into their case, Harry left the shed and jogged back to the park, feeling pleased with himself.

He'd passed the second task.

"_The King, however filled with grief, knew his son would also return, just as his daughter would."_

"Very good, your highness!" Pan praised, accepting the dagger and key, as well as the chalk, hourglass, and fairy-case. Harry beamed at the praise, and Pan gave him that becoming-familiar smile. "I must rest, but, tonight, finish the third task," Pan told him, and Harry suddenly felt a sense of dread, and frowned, eying the creature hesitantly. "Then you shall be able to open the Portal, and you shall return to your _true_ family." The dread was tempered, now, by the sheer _longing_ that sentence inspired. _A true family_, Harry thought wistfully, bidding the Faun farewell and making his way slowly back to his relatives, noticing that their car was in the driveway. He bit back a sigh, and knocked on the door, accepting the cuff on the head his Uncle Vernon gave him when he answered, and made his way to his cupboard, careful not to trail any mud on the floor. Dudley would be home in an hour or too, but, until then, Harry could rest. He felt bone tired and chilled right through.

Collapsing onto his small mattress, Harry closed his eyes, and fell asleep.

"_The King would wait for his children, until he drew his last breath..."_

Harry was gasping for air quietly, eyes huge as he stared at the pages of the book, which were filling with what looked like _blood_. Panicked, he shut the book and hid it away again, before burying his face in his shaking hands, body shuddering. Whatever this final task was, if it dealt with so much blood, he didn't want to do it. Closing his eyes tightly, Harry turned, curling his body into a ball, and went back to sleep, this time a fitful, nightmare-filled sleep, where the walls wept blood and the floor fell away beneath him, dropping him into an unending abyss where the Pale Man, Pan, and the cat-Creature would rend him apart at the seems.

He woke the next day feeling ill, with a pounding headache and the knowledge that the full moon was two days away.

"_...until the world stopped turning."_

"Stupid little freak!" His Uncle bellowed at him, slapping him with enough force he fell to the ground, clutching his already-bruising flesh with watery eyes as he stared up at his large Uncle. "Stealing food! You disgusting little _mongrel_!" He gasped for breath, and Harry curled a bit, whimpering.

"I'm sorry, uncle, I'm sorry!" He cried, and Vernon snarled, grabbed him by the hair, and dragged him to the backdoor, and Harry caught a glimpse of his cousin's nasty grin just before he was tossed out into the snow. "I better not see you until morning, boy!" Vernon snarled, slamming the door shut and leaving Harry to shudder and cry, clutching his swelling cheek. Finally, he stumbled to his feet and made his way into the shed, collapsing and crying quietly to himself.

He had never felt so alone.

"_It is said that the princess returned to her father's kingdom..."_

"Your Highness," Pan's voice woke Harry from a fitful, wretched sleep, hours later. Harry lifted slightly-swollen red-rimmed eyes, and found the Faun crouched near him, half in the shadows still, and inscrutable look on his strange face. "You did not complete the task!" Pan hissed; Harry flinched and curled in on himself.

"I'm sorry," he said meekly. "I, I just got scared..." Pan frowned and let out a hoarse, rattling sound.

"The full moon is _tomorrow night_! If you do not complete the task, you will be stuck here for the rest of your mortal life, one of _them_!" Pan had gotten steadily louder, and Harry curled upon himself, fresh tears filling his eyes. Pan stared at him for a few moments, before letting out a hard sigh, which sounded like a mix between a quiet shriek of a cat, and the sound of willow fonds rustling in the wind.

"It is alright, Your Highness," he finally whispered, reaching out and cupping Harry's uninjured cheek with one of his strange hands. Harry didn't hesitate to nuzzle the hand, looking up at the creature with uncertain, watery eyes. "I shall help you complete the task, and then all will be well, alright?" Harry nodded, and then, overwhelmed, reached forward and threw his arms around the Faun. Pan let out his strange, high-pitched chuckle and hugged him back, cooing lowly, the sound of wolf howls and a mothers lullaby, stroking Harry's hair fondly.

"Thank you, Pan," Harry whispered softly; Pan lifted his chin gently.

"Do you promise to do what I say, and not question me?" He asked gently; Harry nodded earnestly; Pan smiled and stroked his head again. "Good, good."

And the smile that curled the Faun's lips, was an ominous smile.

"_That she reigned with justice and a fair heart for many centuries."_

"You must bring your cousin to the grove," Pan told him; Harry blinked, confused.

"Dudley?" He asked. "But–" Pan pressed an abnormally long finger to the boys lips, making a shushing sound that was reminiscent to rushing water and rustling grass.

"You promised me, Your Highness," he reminded gently; Harry flushed, embarrassed at having already forgot. "You must bring him to the grove, no questions," Pan told him firmly; Harry licked his lips nervously, remembering the blood that had filled the Task Book, and swallowed thickly.

"Pan," he murmured weakly. "I'm locked out of the house." The Faun smirked, a dangerous expression.

"Then make your own door," he said, voice the thing of shadows and spiders hidden awaiting their pray.

He held up the magical chalk, and Harry could only take it and pray that everything would be alright in the end.

"_That she was loved by her people."_

"Dudley," Harry whispered, praying desperately that his cousin didn't try and wake his Uncle and Aunt. "Dudley," he hissed, poking his cousin, who woke with a pig-like snort, blinking squint eyes rapidly, before scowling.

"What are you doing in my room, freak?!" He snarled, quietly, thank goodness.

"Shh," he whispered. "I wanted to show you something I found in the Park," Harry explained hurriedly. "No one else has found it before, and it's amazing," he baited. "It could even make someone famous if they found it!" He coaxed; immediately, Dudley's little eyes gleamed brightly with greed.

"What is it?" He demanded; Harry winced at its louder tone, but knew it wasn't enough to wake his Aunt or Uncle.

"Not here," Harry denied. "You never know who could be listening. Government and all that," he lied; Dudley grunted in understanding, having heard all about the conniving ways of the government from his father... Not that he knew what _conniving_ was, but if his Dad said it in the same way he said _freak_ and _unnatural_, then it must be bad.

"Come on," Harry whispered, and hurriedly moved out of the way so his rather robust cousin could change into appropriate clothes.

This was going to take a while...

"_And that she left behind small traces of her time on earth..."_

"Where the bloody hell is it, you freak?" Dudley wheezed as he stomped through the snow with Harry, making the boy sigh.

"Just over here, Dudley," he replied tiredly; the larger boy let out another pig-like snort.

"Bet you're lying," he grumbled. "And when I tell Dad you'll be in for it!" The nasty grin on his face made Harry's eyes tighten, fighting back a scowl.

"But if you tell Uncle Vernon about this, he'll take it away, to make sure the government doesn't steal it," Harry told him as calmly as he could. "And then you would never get famous for it." Dudley scowled, but nodded. Harry looked ahead and gave a soft, relieved sigh.

"We're here."

"_...visible to only those who knew how to look."_

"What the bloody hell is that?!" Dudley gawped, staring at the large trees; Harry smirked a bit.

"It's what I have to show you," the black-haired boy replied. "It only shows up at night," he fibbed, trotting towards it. Dudley followed, face still locked in that gaping, stunned expression. Harry smiled to himself at it, even as they got closer to the grove, and his insides twisted with uncertainty.

"_But, alas, there was still sadness in the Underworld's kingdom."_

"Brilliant," Dudley whispered as he watched the tree-tunnel form; Harry could only nod as he led the way into the garden beyond.

"_For, you see, the prince had yet to return."_

"Ah, you have arrived, Your Highness, good, good," Pan said, perched on his awkward, backward-knee'd legs at the opposite side of the top step, shimmering dagger in hand.

"What the hell is that!?" Dudley screamed, pointing at Pan with a look of terror; Harry rolled his eyes slightly.

"_He_," Harry corrected. "Is a Faun. Dudley, meet Pan, Pan, meet Dudley." The Faun smiled, and Harry had the dubious pleasure of watching his cousin wet himself before passing out on the ground. Harry blinked, then shrugged, turning back to face the Faun.

"Why did you need him, anyways?" He asked hesitantly.

Pan's ominous smirk was not at all reassuring.

"_The king and queen and princess would wait patiently, however..."_

"The Portal requires the blood of your enemy to open," the Faun told him; Harry felt his insides freeze. "Only a drop, Your Highness. A small prick," he waved the beautiful dagger gently. "He will not even feel it. Come now," the Faun coaxed, smiling. "Drag him over here, Your Highness! We shall have you back in the kingdom by morning and–"

"No," Harry blurted; Pan froze, and the shadows suddenly seemed larger, deeper, as those ash-colored eyes narrowed, the small, white pupil narrowing as well as his face hardened.

"What was that, Your Highness?" He asked in a hissing, dreadful voice. Harry wet his lips, trying to swallow but his mouth was dry.

"I said no, Pan."

"_...for they knew that the day would come..."_

"You promised to obey me!" Pan hissed furiously; Harry shuddered slightly, but remained resolute. "If you do not do this, you will never return to your home! You will be caught in exile, mortal. You will age, and get sick, and feel pain, and _die_ as one of _them!_"

"I know!" Harry snapped, a bit of anger rising to help deal with his fear.

"You would throw away your kingdom, your _family_, for a mortal that has done nothing but hurt and humiliate you at every turn?" The Faun demanded, voice harsh like the caw of a crow and the cry of a dying man.

"I would," Harry replied hotly, glaring right back at the creature. Pan's eyes narrowed further.

"You shall have your wish, then," he growled, and abruptly faded from sight.

"_...when their prince would pass his Three Tasks..."_

Harry looked around rapidly, eyes wide and heart in his throat, scared that the scorned Faun would attack him from the shadows. A groan from his cousin had him turning to see the boy sitting up, blinking, dazed. The boy caught sight of him, and his face became a very familiar mottled red. Harry could only watch in dread as his cousin got slowly to his feet, hands clenched into fists.

"_...and return to them through the Portals."_

"You stupid, ruddy _**FREAK!**_" He bellowed, lunging forward and slamming his fist into Harry's face, sending him reeling, arms windmilling, even before the second punch broke his nose, making blood gush down his face while he choked on the flood that poured down his throat. He could no longer here his cousin's rant, but he felt the next punch, but when he took that next, stumbling step pack, his foot met air.

Harry fell to the bottom of the underground room, and landed on the stone with a sickening _crack_.

Chocking on his own blood, dazed and in a tremendous amount of pain, he managed to turn his head and stare at the statue of the Faun, the Girl, the Baby, and the little Boy. Tears fell and mixed with his blood in the water between ripples, and more from the placed where his broken bones punctured his skin, filling the ripples and making it's way to the statue's feet. Taking one last shuddering breath, Harry closed his eyes, and died, cold, alone, broken and bleeding upon the ground in front of the thing he had thrown away to protect his cousin, his murderer...

But he would not have changed his answers if Pan had turned back time and offered it again.

"_And when the prince returned..."_

Harry opened his eyes and found himself laying on the ground in a glorious room, dressed in crushed velvet that was a deep, beautiful gold, with red designs and buttons.

"Arise, my son," a warm voice called across the room, and Harry sat up, eyes huge as he looked over to see four seats held high off the ground by thick vines. Three of them were filled, one by and older man dressed in rich robes with a gold crown above his head. To his left was a beautiful woman with similar robes with a smaller crown. On his right was a young woman with a thin silver circlet on her head, where a dark red dress with similar designs and buttons as his, but gold.

"Come, little brother," the girl called to him, and Harry rose to his feet hesitantly, staring at them with a feeling of raw hope in his chest.

They were all smiling at him.

"_..they shall greet him, one and all..."_

"I don't understand," Harry managed, confused as he slowly walked towards them. "The Third Task..." The man, his _father_, smiled warmly at him.

"You spilled your own blood, my son, instead of someone who had caused you pain and torment. You chose protection instead of revenge. Love, instead of hate."

"And you chose well!" Pan called, voice clearer, happier, the sound of butterfly wings and children's laughter, like the warmth of the sun and the song of the jay bird. The Faun stepped from the shadow of Harry's Father's thrown, smiling a smile that held nothing but warmth, so different from his usual smiles.

"_...with a simple, yet heartfelt..."_

"Come here with us, Brother!" his sister called, smiling and pointing at the empty thrown next to her. "Come, sit next to father! And tell me all about your adventure. I'll tell you all about mine as well!" Staring at them, he could only smile, eyes watery, as the crowd of creatures, his People, rose in the bleachers in a standing ovation.

Taking a deep breath, he walked forward, and claimed his throne, as Prince Anselmo of the Underworld, son of King Rey and Queen Carmen, and brother to the wonderful Princess Moanna. No thought was given to Dudley, who caught pneumonia from his jaunt through the snow, and died a week afterward. Nor were their any thoughts given to the Wizarding World, who fell and rose from its own ashes without the help of The Boy-Who-Lived.

Harry was home, and that's all that mattered.

"_...'Welcome Home'."_

**END**

**A/N:** Whoa, I spent six hours typing this nonstop.

Midnight to six AM...

Wow.

GO ME!

As you can tell (if you've ever seen the movie) I followed certain things from it and changed others. The first Task and the final Task, for example, are changed, but I kept the second Task (Pale Man is friggin CREEPY, okay? Jeez).

_**Anselmo**_ is Spanish for **_'Divine Protection'_**

I got the riddles (and yes, it WAS a sphinx) from a random website thanks to Google.

I hope you all enjoyed this!

**R&R!**


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